


Don't Fear the Reaper

by KarlaSchmidt



Category: Divergent - All Media Types
Genre: Dauntless Faction, Dauntless Faction Initiation, Divergent OC, Erudite Faction, F/M, Fear, Fear of Torture, Physically Weak OC, Self Control, fear simulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-04-20 16:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarlaSchmidt/pseuds/KarlaSchmidt
Summary: Seemingly fearless, hopeless in physical trials and an initiate - Circe's disposition (or lack thereof) intrigues the untouchable Dauntless Leader, Eric Coulter. Respect is returned with contempt, until an irrational action on his part drives the feared man and misfit girl closer.The focus for this story is on the film adaptations of Veronica Roth's series, but some elements from the books will be included, such as Eric's age.





	1. Welcome to Dauntless

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo Menschen,  
> Jai Courtney - enough said. But thanks to any possible readers, and hope you enjoy this.  
> Karla

Enveloping the sixteen year old's gaunt frame were the standard white sheets and blue duvet of Erudite, wrapped tightly in a cocoon - clear evidence of her less deep than usual slumber. Such (more likely worse) was the effect of the looming Choosing Ceremony on adolescents from all five factions, the point marking the commencement of arduous trials, new peers, possibly abandoning family and the constant risk of becoming Factionless if standards were not met. Not to mention the pressure applied by some families for their children to remain in their birth faction, despite the well-uttered phrase: 'Faction before blood.'. Presently, Circe had yet to make her decision as to which faction she would select; although Erudite was the obvious choice. Having pondered it heavily before she fell asleep at around midnight, she was fairly aware of which two were of most interest. Dominantly weighing in her mind however was the result of her Aptitude Test, which had required unusually heavy research due to its peculiarity.

As if roused from a mid-afternoon nap, Circe exited the simulation with paced breathing and high expectation that her result would be that of her birth faction. Therefore, when she enquired about the result, the administrator's action of grasping her wrist and firmly steering her in front of the screen took her by surprise. Moreover, her result - which sufficed to explain the odd behaviour - was still more startling. Present was the symbol of Erudite, though the inexplicable display of the Candor and Dauntless sigils as well caused her coal-black brows to furrow in confusion. "Is there a flaw in the readings, then?" she questioned, to which the administrator, a woman in her mid-twenties with tightly braided ginger hair (whose clothes signified Abnegation) responded: "No. No, it was evaluated last week. This... you had better leave, I'll record your result as Erudite." Despite their solitude, the woman's eyes darted about the room with the rapidity of a sparrow, and her expression belied great emotional strain. Due to Circe's inertness, she continued more urgently, "Look, I should really report this, but I'm giving you a chance at a normal life -". However, the younger suddenly interjected without questioning why she would conceal the result, "Surely you know what this means?". As she ushered Circe towards the door, the woman sighed heavily and implored, "Just... reasearch Divergence. Now, if anyone questions your result, it was Erudite, alright?". Nodding in affirmtion and gratitude, the adolescent exited with fleet step, usual stoic expression and mind brimming with questions.

Since seeking refuge in her bedroom the previous night, Circe had scanned through all the books she possessed on the Factions (small use though it was, due to the censorship) and had attempted some internet research, deleting her searches as she went. Despite the risk of arousing suspicions, the burning issue of Divergence was itching in the forefront of her mind, so much so that she put far less thought into the Choosing Ceremony than she would have liked. By definition of the word and the evident severity of the subject in relation to the Aptitude Test (and furthermore, the factions), she had concluded that somehow, she differed from the norm - the fact that this aberration was also known and named connoted that it was by no means an isolated incident - there were others who had shared this experience. Although she heavily wished in retrospect that she had questioned the administrator further, lingering on the past would aid little in deciphering the present. Additionally, how she had acknowledged that the result should have been reported suggested to Circe that this so-called Divergence was an ongoing issue with the factions systems, and evidently one which they desired to conceal from the general population. Deigning to forego further pondering in favour of sleep, she was all too aware that this could only become a more grave subject once the Choosing Ceremony was over.

Beating down upon the half-derelict buildings, the midday sun half blinded the queueing adolescents, Circe included, as they filed into The Hub; for the Choosing Ceremony was finally to begin. Among the thrumming buzz of nervous conversations as teenagers of all factions took their seats, the black haired girl sat ramrod-straight with arms folded, surveying the masses with their observing families. For a moment, her icy gaze lingered on an Abnegation girl, her sleek blonde hair pulled back from her fair face. Beside her stood (presumably) her brother, though what actually caught her eye was the fact that the two and their parents were conversing with her faction leader, Jeanine Matthews. Or rather, being spoken to by Jeanine Matthews. As the conversation subsided, and the Abnegation family took their seats, Circe turned back for a moment to search the Erudite assembly for her parents; when they noticed each other, faces neutral, they simply nodded wordlessly. This lack of sentiment was usual for their family - all understood and respected their mutual strive for success academically, and so this was the basis for their relationship. Reminiscing ceased by the clear tone of Jeanine's voice throughout The Hub, Circe's attention was focused to the woman whose custom it was annually to introduce the Choosing Ceremony. "The Faction System is a living being," she began, after a polite applause from the crowd, "composed of cells - all of you. And the only way it can survive and thrive is for each of you to claim your rightful place. The future belongs to those who know where they belong." Finalising her speech with a sweeping glance across the multitude of faces, Jeanine stepped aside for Marcus Eaton, the controversial leader of Abnegation, to continue before the ceremony began. Once reciting the age-old phrase, "Faction before blood," the first names were called from the mass of teenagers, both trembling with apprehension and collected as steel. All that remained was to wait, and select their futures with the caress of a blade.

One by one, sixteen-year-old members of each faction were called to the raised platform where five bowls representing each faction sat. While the members of four factions applauded politely when their ranks were increased, the Dauntless members not only provided a standing ovation. but cheered vehemently throughout the entire ceremony. Such was the case when the Abnegation girl, named Beatrice Prior, selected Dauntless after some hesitation; Circe observed her as, half-smiling nervously, she took a seat among the black-clad adolescents, now dotted with the colours of other factions. Eventually, her own name was called, and wearing a marble-cold expression, she strode to the five porcelain bowls with resignation. After sterilising the blade, she drew it with a steady grip across her skin, remaining motionless as beads of blood bloomed in her palm like rose buds. While her clenched fist hovered over the bowl of crystalline water, Circe affirmed the lingering idea in her mind. After sixteen years in Erudite, a challenge was necessary; an experience to test the boundaries of her mental and physical capabilities. Fascinating to her was the concept of fear, and so intriguing that she wished to explore it to its furthest depths, as a caver delves ever deeper into the unmapped alcove. Moments before a drop of crimson blood fell to break the glassy surface, she relaxed her fingers over the bowl of smouldering coals, listening to it hiss before the uproarious applause from the Dauntless members drowned out all noise momentarily. Without pausing to glance at her parents, she edged around the broadly grinning people clad in black to take a seat at the rear, paying only half-attention to the continued Choosing Ceremony as she contemplated what was to come.

As it happened, embarassment was first to follow the conclusion of the Ceremony; as soon as the jostling crowd of Dauntless forced their way out of The Hub, they took of at full pelt towards their transport, whooping with brimming energy the entire time. Struggling to meet the rapid pace, Circe lingered at the back of the charging group, lungs heaving for breath and barely-present muscles, unused to such exertion, cringing in protest. With slight exasperation, she deigned that the majority of the training programme would consist of physical exercise, yet continued running as they began to board a train in motion. Having at length managed to clamber on, she sunk to the floor and breathed deeply, rubbing her temples gently in an attempt to calm down. However, the gaze she felt resting upon her only sufficed to raise her displeasure - even more so when she rose to face the person and was met with an egotistical smirk and disdainful glance from an Erudite boy, who soon became diverted by the fact that the members had begun to leap from the speeding vehicle. Shoving the irritating boy to the back of her mind, Circe also became preoccupied with this detail, and surveyed in seconds how they vaulted out to land on a gravel roof. Once more taking a deep inhalation, she took a running start and flailed through the air to land spread-eagled on the ground. Ignoring the stones digging into her hands and knees (as well as the snorts of laughter from some of the more stable members) in favour of brushing down her trousers, she managed to regain composure and joined the group. Though her attention was initially attracted to the sight of Beatrice conversing with an ebony-haired Candor girl, it was soon diverted to the man standing upon a nearby wall. Almost statuesque, his steely gaze wandered idly the faces gathered before him, while he folded his muscular arms. Tattoos marked his body in addition to several piercings, and his stature and size cut an imposing figure; Circe regareded him with intrigue, until he began to speak in an equally dominating tone. "Alright, listen up. I'm Eric, one of your leaders." Pacing a little on his podium, Eric's eyes continued to flash among the captured faces which regarded him, flickering momentarily to Circe's pale visage and causing a slight peak in her heart rate. "If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in," He continued, glancing disinterestedly at his surroundings, as if he had seen them hundreds of times before, "And if you don't have the guts to jump, then you don't belong in Dauntless." At this point, a second Erudite boy interjected; "Is there water at the bottom or something?" "I guess you'll find out." Countered Eric, baritone voice resonating firmly. "Or not. Well, someone's gotta go first - so who's it going to be?" A fine welcome this was indeed to Dauntless.


	2. Integration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate the amount of hits this story's got so far - thanks!  
> Hopefully you enjoy this chapter - I'll update Hell's Angel as soon as possible, because momentarily, I'm piecing together dialogue featuring Maroni from Season One. Similarly, I'm trying to find more Die Hard clips to get the dialogue, so I'm not sure when Feuer Frei! will be updated, but I'm by no means abandoning it.  
> Karla

"...who's it going to be?" Following Eric's less than warm welcome, an undergrowth of murmurings began to bloom as the initiates glanced at each other, attempting to assess who would be the first of them to leap into a seemingly fathomless pit. After a minute or so, the muttering died into a shifting silence, in which adolescents scuffed their shoes on the gravel and risked the occasional glance at the impatient Eric - these lasted a split second, as the terror of making eye contact and possibly being selected gripped them. All remained so, until perhaps the most unlikely candidate raised her voice. "Me." Each head snapped to take in the individual... Beatrice, from Abnegation. Several among them, including the snide Erudite boy, scoffed in disdain as they noted her faction; Circe, however, regarded her with curiosity, intrigued that someone who had seemed so very lacking in confidence would volunteer. Well, there were always aberrations, she mused. 

Meanwhile, Eric had hopped down from the wall, for Beatrice to peer over the edge - some locks of her blonde hair had escaped her bun, and were caught by the breeze. In preparation, she shod her slate-grey cardigan, only to be met with teasing catcalls from her fellow initiates. Again, the Erudite boy was among them, he who was rapidly beginning to irritate Circe. However, a far more interesting scenario was at hand, which she was certainly not going to forsake for the likes of him. Having clambered awkwardly onto the wall, the Abnegation girl was evidently steeling herself for the plunge, seeking to wrench her gaze from the pit before her. Eric's harsh remark ("Today, initiate.") seemed to spur her on, for seconds later, she had stepped from the edge and plummeted. As they heard a sharp recoil, as well as an echoed exclamation, a handful of initiates - including Circe - craned their heads over to try and discern the first jumper. Suddenly, they were returned to their predicament by their present leader: "Right, who's going second?". Once more, silence spread among them, though not nearly for as long as previously, for a new, deeper voice cut through it like a knife through butter. "I will." Without sparing a glance at the others, Circe directed her gaze exactly ahead to the wall, which she approached with firm strides. With Eric's piercing stare focused on her, she felt her muscles tense subconsciously. Nonetheless, she resolved not to let him notice, lest any further comments be uttered. For a few moments, she stoically surveyed the drop, from the jagged edges of splintered concrete to the pitch-black hole within. While her equally dark hair was shifted by the wind, she thought she glimpsed the heavily tattooed man glaring directly at her eyes. With a slight exhale which did not go unmissed by the otherwise disinterested looking Dauntless leader, she stepped as if through her bedroom door into the void. 

Arms splayed as she cut through the clawing air, Circe's body jarred abruptly as a suspended net caught it, just as it had Beatrice's minutes earlier. The girl in question gave her a half-smile when the Erudite girl noticed her standing off to the side with a taller man. Brown curls which were mostly tamed covered his head, a light tan bronzed his skin and he was currently moving to help Circe from the net before she was crushed by the next jumper. Silently taking his offered hand, she landed lightly on her toes and nodded cordially in thanks. "Not someone of many words, initiate? You'll have a hard time fitting in around here. What's your name?" While his voice was firm, it was certainly softer than Eric's - however, it was as yet too early to form a judgement on him. "Circe." She muttered, before striding past the pair to lean on the wall, passing the time in watching the other initiates leap from the ledge. In some cases, they laughed in delighted exhilaration, others looked rather disgruntled by the harsh landing, while a sorry few even hurriedly wiped tears from their eyes. As more and more plummeted from the roof, they congregated in another group, either chatting excitedly or complaining vehemently; meanwhile, as if he had it were a menial task he had accomplished hundreds of times before (though that assessment was probably true), Eric landed with much greater composure in the net. Silently and unnoticed by all but the observing girl at the rear of the group, he stalked off to a side door - meanwhile, the others had suddenly quieted and directed their attention towards the other man. "Dauntless-Borns, go with Lauren, transfers, stay with me. Go." While the group divided, those remaining packed more tightly around the him, awaiting their introduction.

"Most of the time, I'd work in intelligence, but during your training, I'll be your instructor. My name's Four." Taking a moment to note that there was an intelligence branch she should look into, Circe's attention was again re-directed when Beatrice's friend from Candor interjected amusedly, in typical fashion for her faction. "Four like the number?". To her surprise, he responded calmly and swiftly, "Exactly like the number." - somehow, she could not envision Eric reacting similarly, from what she had gathered. "What happened, One, Two and Three were taken?" The girl continued, smirking lightly. Four, without breaking his placid manner, asked "What's your name?", to which she responded, "Christina." Nodding, he stepped closer to her, smile gradually fading while his calm tone remained steadfast. "Well, Christina; the first lesson you'll learn from me, if you want to survive, is to keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?". Confidence shrunk slightly, she whispered a 'Yes,' in reply, causing Four to nod, satisfied, and retreat. "Follow me." 

As directed, the transfers kept pace with Four, making their way through a scarlet-lit spiral stairway, their footsteps resounding in the enclosed area. Through the corridors they strode, until they arrived in a cavernous room filled with conversing Dauntless and illuminated by an enormous skylight; Circe took it in, mapping each detail of her new dwelling in her mind. "This is the pit; the centre of life here at Dauntless." Commented Four, while some of the initiates grinned in awe. As ever, the Erudite girl remained stone-faced, the only noticeable sign of her attention being the piercing eyes which, shining with activity, darted about her environment. Continuing onwards, their instructor led them to their sleeping quarters - for the next ten weeks, as he pointed out - which was an open environment with a layout of camp beds, and with no distinguished separation for males and females. Evidently, this aspect disturbed some of the transfers, sparking sighs of discontent as well as snorts of laughter. "If you like this," Four continued, "then you'll love the bathroom." At the sight, Circe's eyes narrowed, while the others groaned in frustration; it was entirely open, no cubicles to divide the toilets, and once again, no separate area for either gender. "You should feel right at home, Candor," He remarked to Christina, "everything out in the open. Get changed." He instructed finally to the others, striding out of the compound. Immediately, Circe staked a bed facing the corner as hers, upon which she placed her new clothes, all of which were black: a sleeveless vest, coupled with slightly faded black jeans and a leather jacket, with fitted combat boots upon her feet. Content with her position, she folded her previous Erudite garbs and followed the others, who carried their old clothes to furnaces, so as to incinerate them. At last finalising their transition to Dauntless. 

Once this act of shedding skin was complete, a tributary of black clad figures filed into what was evidently the faction's dining hall. Trickling into the writhing sea of original Dauntless members, they immediately began a frantic search for a place to sit and perhaps make acquaintances. Since it was near impossible to discern an empty space among the masses of conversing young adults, Circe skirted around the outside while weaving around the crowd positively thrumming with energy, at all times, it seemed. Eventually, she honed in on a space between two groups of chatting girls, who looked a few years older than her, and hoped that she would go relatively unnoticed. Mostly due to her reserved demeanour and utter resentment of small talk, she had long since discovered that those who were not like minded soon grew to avoid her company; in Erudite alone, where intelligence was valued above any other aspect of personality. Slipping down into the chair, Circe reached a gaunt arm across the table in quest of some rice, feeling the abrasive hum of countless voices submerge her entirely. Idly, she wondered where Eric was, as she had not seen him since he had vanished, concealed, after the leap - perhaps the leaders dined separately from the less qualified members? If she ever was presented with the opportunity to talk to him, she speculated that he would be equally, if not more aloof than she was; however, her mind wryly piped up, he would more likely be chastising her for her abysmal strength and stamina than calmly discussing faction affairs. 

Soon enough, her train of thought (which she had gradually diverted from the obscure man) was severed by the resounding clang of mugs being shook against tables, drawing the conversations to a close like curtains gravitating together to obscure intruding light. Amidst the cacophony, many younger heads tilted about, rapidly coming to rest upon a well-built dark skinned man who surveyed the crowd from a balcony above. "Initiates," he intoned, voice carrying both authority and a warmer nature, not unlike Four's, "stand." As the first and most eager of the lot began to rise, so followed the others, who were significantly less enthusiastic about being presented to the more experienced members of their new faction. When he was certain that each pair of eyes was more or less focused on him, the man continued speaking. "You have chosen to join the warrior faction; tasked with the defence of this city and all its inhabitants." Circe rolled her eyes internally at the 'warrior' aspect, assuming that this man was one of the faction leaders, like Eric. Reminded of him, she began to search the balcony for him with half attention while listening to the new leader's speech. "We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, and the courage that drives one person to stand up for another." Surely, then, they linked to Abnegation values? "Respect that - do us proud." He concluded, drawing away from the railing, accompanied by another tremendous round of applause from his students. Although she though she caught a glimpse of a heavily tattooed bicep, she doubted it was his - tattoos seemed to be an integral component of the culture in Dauntless- all ponderings about the new environment and its denizens were instantaneously ceased as several pairs of hands grasped her body and lifted it into the air. Eyes slightly widened in shock, a few seconds of a heightened pulse flew before she noticed that her fellow initiates were crowd surfing amidst the haze of cheers and grins. As if the jubilant atmosphere was gaseous, Circe couldn't help but let the beginnings of a smile slip past her defences as she inhaled and exhaled.


End file.
